My name is Katharine Hollister. I'm a six-foot-two, busty, kind of plump young woman with bone-white skin and blonde-white hair. My eyes are an icy bl...e. I've been told my big tits, wide hips and huge round ass are my best features. I've always been a large woman and I've never been pretty. Most men don't find women who weigh two hundred and sixty pounds pretty. I don't care, though. I want what everyone else wants. Respect. Love. Money. Sex. And I don't care who knows it.When I met Jackson. And, there were apparently other complications; he needed a donor that was pretty much an exact match.That night, the night I got Aunt Delia’s letter; I drank; I drank a lot. The next morning, my decision made for me, by Aunt Delia, I headed back for Phoenix. I checked myself into Phoenix General and made the deal to make an anonymous donation to save my traitorous brother’s life. Aunt Delia would know, but nobody else. Would the rest of them be able to guess? Maybe, but they would not know for. She stretched under the goose down comforter that had been pulled up around her neck against the soft breeze coming through the open window. The clock read 7 am and she didn’t have to go to work. She turned over onto her side and listened to her body and to the rain. She could hear her heartbeats in the drops that fell on the windowsill. Underneath the covers, she began to touch her skin. It felt soft and warm, almost sleepy, as if it were waiting for her permission to awaken. The softness of. Yadamma successfully completed 4 days of work. That night I was working late as I had to prepare some notes for the next day. By 11.40 I completed writing. I decided to sleep. I kept my mat, bed sheet, blanket and pillow ready. I lay there. I covered my body with my blanket. I closed my eyes. I was about to fall asleep. Soon I heard a knock on my door. I got up and opened the door. It was Yadamma. ”What happened? Why have you come?” I asked her. “Sir….. Can you give me some money?” “Money….?.